


Train wreck

by avengstark



Category: JDM - Fandom, Jeffrey Dean Morgan - Fandom, Negan - Fandom, The Walking Dead (TV), Twd - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, JDM, Jeffrey Dean Morgan - Freeform, Swearing, daryl dixon - Freeform, rick grimes - Freeform, simon - Freeform, the walking dead - Freeform, twd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 17:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11833770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengstark/pseuds/avengstark
Summary: mental stability only lasts so long (yes the title is what song I listened to as I wrote)





	Train wreck

**Author's Note:**

> please comment your opinions, along with whether you would like me to continue, and any requests you have for other fics in The Walking Dead, and Supernatural fandoms. I can also try to do The 100 and BBC Sherlock. I prefer doing boy x boy or x readers. Thank you for reading!!

The weapon came back quickly, ageing leather attempting to keep up with his every move. This was a process he was more than used to, but this time a flood gate opened in his mind and a slight tremble made its way to his fingers as the bat came down, connecting to the flesh with a thud. Strands of hair and pieces of skin got caught in the barbed wire as a new coat of blood settled against stained wood. His throat became tight and he began to wonder if he'd met his breaking point, but he couldn't fall, he refused to. His moves became more forced, his expression even more distant than before, his voice louder, emotionless. "Let's fucking get the hell out of here!" He barked, the facade becoming a struggle as he rushed the shit show along, his boots colliding against the ground as he left the scene, the held back sobs and cloth shuffling against shaking shoulders hitting him a bit harsher this time. 

Foot steps fell in tune with his own as Simon approached his side, looking over at him. Though he had grown to consider Simon a friend, he wasn't in the fucking mood for company. "Boss-" Negan stopped and turned on his heel, dark hazel eyes boring into the man beside him. "Pack up everyone and every goddamn thing, and haul ass back to the sanctuary. I have shit to do." His voice was practically a snarl, and Simon raised his hands in surrender, his retreating figure becoming a blur, but not entirely due to distance. 

He cradled the beaten and bloody bat in his hand, running his gloved thumb over the chipped pieces of wood, a sigh pushing its way off of his tongue. "You wouldn't want to see me now-" He began, stopping momentarily to think of how fucking stupid it was to be talking to a goddamn baseball bat. Lucille, the real one, was long gone. "I fucked up, Luc." He mumbled, his tongue darting across his lip. "But you know- you knew that. Why the fuck didn't you throw me out?" Negan spoke, the apocalypse out of his mind for a moment as that night came back to him. Hell, it hadn't even been that good of an orgasm. He'd been drunk and horny, but that was no excuse. His dick shouldn't have been in some desperate whiny bitch when he had a wife at home. A wife silently fighting through a losing fight alone. Hell, if he'd been home more often he would've noticed how much darker and deeper the bags under her eyes had gotten, how her once tan skin seemed to fade, disease caressing her features slowly, and then all at fucking once in that goddamn hospital bed once he'd finally gotten his head out of his ass. The apocalypse came back in an instant, Negan's throat becoming tighter with the sudden realisation. Though cancer had been what took Lucille from the world, had she survived another year the virus that had taken the world by storm, would have dug its claws in her as well.

No matter what happened, he never would have been able to save her, would he? That made him fucking useless, though he already had been, hadn't he? The six foot one man came tumbling to the ground as his knees knuckled beneath him, his head going light as the years worth of bottled emotions began to release itself all at once. Flashes of everyone victim to the wooden bat clutched in his palm flashed behind tightly closed eyelids. He hadn't realised that he remembered them all, every single goddamn one. "Fuck." He breathed, his heart pounding so loudly it blocked his surroundings out. 

Reality began to tug at his senses, the snarls of walkers filling the clearing. His mind continued to drown him in thoughts of his deceased wife, the shit storm the world had been, how much worse it was now, how much of a prick he was, how he'd succumbed to grief and become a goddamn madman, how instead of correcting himself for cheating he had too many wives and a lost count of how many time's he'd come in a single week, how he killed for no goddamn reason because hell they all died anyway, at first he'd had a purpose, but he'd gotten taken advantage of and now he was just fucking power hungry. 

Negan swung Luci- Negan swung the bat blindly, it losing its meaning as tears struck at his eyes, clinging to the lashes lining them. They were pointless, they wouldn't change a goddamn thing. He continued to fight, but he was tired, goddamn was he tired. By the time he struck one walker down, four more had shown up. He backed up, his boots scuffing against the dirt, and a thought sounded off in his mind. Why was he running, why was he fighting back? 

The bat fell to the ground with a thud heard only by him, a thud that would resonate through his mind for only a few minutes longer. "Come get me you hungry undead fucks." Negan stopped running, he went still, trying to fight against how rigid his frame was, wanting to just go limp. He didn't want this, goddamn this was not how we wanted to fucking go out, but he deserved it.


End file.
